Not Just A Bus

A not so yellow bus. Say a yellow bus and immediately the first thought is that of a school bus if you're from the US and even if you're not, movies over time have had them on screen for generations. I was never on a yellow school bus but I did take a school bus for 12 years. Between 1968 and 1976 it was the school bus for Notre Dame International School in Rome.

Every one has stories to tell of school buses and probably more to do with the shenanigans going on during the ride, whether going or coming.

It was like any other day, just another school day, one of many in the years that sometimes felt like an infinite lifetime. I was 12 at the time which would make it the sixth grade, a time when you think you're no longer a child, but a teen. School was quite a ways away from home and so a school bus had always been part of how the day started and ended. I had a quick breakfast and grudgingly got my stuff and hurried down to wait for the bus to come by.

Being Rome, punctuality was a rather loose concept, whether late or even early, a given time was never precise, more like a mirage if you were waiting for someone or something. So if 7:30AM was the pickup time, I was always down ahead of time, maybe even by more than five minutes. I suppose one could argue that if the bus came early it would wait but that assumed that the bus driver's watch told the correct time, if he was even wearing one at all. All in all I don't recall ever missing the bus in the eight years I used it. Doesn't mean I was never late going down to wait. I know there were days I was late, but I just lucked out, the bus was running late anyways, a more typical occurrence.

That day I did go down without delay. It was a day later in the week, a Thursday. While using the school bus was a given, what kind of bus it actually was, was always a discovery of sorts. Over the years the bus that came, was of all sorts of sizes, colors, and type. As the route I was on was one of the smaller ones in terms of students, but not in distance, it could have been a plain Ford Transit minivan to a luxury coach built 60 seat bus on a Mercedes Benz rolling chassis with all the bells and whistles. That was the lucky week I guess as Mei, the bus company, had just taken delivery of a new luxury bus and for some reason unknown to me, it started the day on my school route. Compared to anything else on the road at the time it really looked its part - sleek, a sleeping giant, graceful lines, a full single windshield, and all the hissing as everything was serviced by air pumps. More like Big Boy locomotive on tires.

From where I waited I could see in the distance the shape of what was approaching, and I knew this was going to be a very comfortable morning ride to school. It hissed to a stop and another hiss and the doors opened. I could see that Roberto was behind the wheel and that was the best combination. Roberto was the oldest of all the brothers and he was big, much like an aircraft carrier of serious tonnage. He had been a boxer and you could tell from the size of his neck, but he was truly a gentle giant with an enormous smile. When you're twelve there is that moment, when you leave home and are on the street waiting for the bus arrive, that you feel a bit of being in limbo and a heightened sense of risk or fear. Getting on the bus and the door closes behind, you feel you're back in a protected cocoon. Roberto only made this better as you could literally hide behind him.

As my stop was among the early ones, I had plenty of choices of where to sit, but in this case the first row was hands down the best spot for a kid like me fascinated by gadgets and mechanical things. Seated just behind Roberto it just felt like I was the one driving the bus. And this one really had all the bells and whistles. It wasn't a dashboard, it was literally like a command control for the space shuttle. Dials, gauges, and switches everywhere. This was also the first kind of a bus where the driver sat on seat that had a suspension so that it was a softer ride. It was fun to see Roberto move up and down as the bus went over rough spots on the road. It was a fluid motion rather than being bounced up and down.

It was a plush ride with velour seats and even air conditioning. It was spring day and for Rome that meant that the sun would make itself felt if there were no clouds. Driving a bus in Rome has its challenges and for heavyweights like this Mercedes O302, it was best to stick to the main streets that were reasonably wide, but still some narrower streets simply couldn't be avoided unless one wanted to tack on considerable extra time. One such street was particularly challenging as it was already narrow at the top end even as a one way street, and it simply narrowed even more further towards the other end. Street parking wasn't exactly prohibited and residents in residential apartment neighborhood understood how to use spaces so that everyone had a fair chance while not creating real issues with thru traffic. Italians are known to be creative. While tight this street could be managed with care and the parked cars generally belonged to folks living on the street and they knew who could park where and how to avoid creating difficult situations,

As with the rest of Rome, steets haven't changed much

Alas that was the day. Down the far end, a Fiat was poorly parked. It tried to fit sideways into a spot but it left the rear sticky out quite a bit more, The space was actually enough but the driver must have been in hurry and didn't want to bother. We came to a stop and Roberto was quietly cursing. He started honking the horn to the get owner's attention. Unfortunately this owner was probably quite a ways from the spot or maybe just didn't care. It wasn't a heavily used street, but eventually other cars joined us. Those closer to the top end managed to back up and go in other directions.

Roberto didn't want to run late but the situation wasn't simple. I suppose he didn't really want to give up and backup the bus. Maybe not simple but quite doable if other folks helped him navigate the narrow street. With power steering the only challenge was the sheer size. I could see Roberto gesticulating with other drivers who had now circled around the problem. Everyone else could have passed but Roberto was in the way. It was a Buster Keaton moment as Roberto did the unthinkable. Together with six other drivers, they all started to jostle the Fiat in unison. They pushed it up and down repeatedly as somehow when it reached a resonant frequency on every upswing the car kind of jumped off the asphalt, and Roberto would use all his strength in sync with the upswing to inch the car further to side. An inch became five inches, and in the end they had budged the car two feet further to the side, enough for Roberto pass through. The rest of the trip was uneventful, and no other incident ever occurred that could beat this singular experience.

Not a regular occurrence but neither rare

In the US and Canada school buses make an estimated 8 billion trips every year, a staggering number, but testament to something that works for almost a century in a way and form that has become part of the social fabric and iconic at the same time. Few countries elsewhere in the world have anything that is comparable. For the most part, if there is a school bus it's because of a private school and its operation is basically funded as an additional cost to tuition. As a kid none of this was something I knew nor could have fathomed. I just took for a what it was - a way to get to and from school everyday.

Umberto Mei e Figli (Umberto Mei and Sons) was the company that provided the service as well as any other special charter occasions. There were eight bus routes, mine being the last. it was also the route with the least amount of students, it varied between 8 and 20 depending on the year. The buses would be in the inner courtyard for the return trip.

Over the years, as my route had few students, we literally had the gamut of what Mei had in their garage. It went from a Ford Transit minivan to a relatively luxurious custom coach on a rolling Mercedes Benz chassis. In between there were other large coaches that spanned different time periods. It went from something of the late 50s with hard seats and plastic upholstery, and the way the driver had to manhandle the steering wheel it probably didn't have any steering assist, and the occasional grinding mean a transmission with dubious synchromesh gears. While Umberto's sons were the main drivers, as business grew they had some other folks as well. Some were fine. Others less as they gave the impression of being annoyed at doing a morning run and with kids to add.

Two other incidents come to mind. One is something one could expect statistically speaking - a breakdown. For a kid a mechanical breakdown causing the bus to no longer be operable has its fair share of excitement, but then what? A bus load of school kids who need to get home. Logic would tell you to expect another bus, just as what would happen with a plane, but that probably required time so I guess think outside the box. This was the early 70s so no mobile phones which made making arrangements required some creativity. I couldn't call home and just say pick me up. Luckily we were stopped in a nice residential area near an intersection. The bus driver stepped into a nearby café while leaving us kids to ourselves on the bus, probably unthinkable these days. It turns out that the bus driver seeing that we were 8 in total, found a toll phone in the café and called Umberto. Umberto must have asked him how much cash he had in his pocket because he called for 8 taxis to come and that became our school ride. The bus driver gave me the equivalent of 20 USD, a pretty sum in those days, to cover the taxi fare. The bus driver gave the taxi drivers instructions and I was off on my merry way. It all happened in a blur. I guess I should have been frightened, but I must have felt like a grownup kid, knowing enough what to do. True it was a different time. In the end I got home not much later than my expected hour, and for the Italian punctuality, my mother was probably only at an alert level 2. I don't recall her reaction when I related what happened, but apparently not too serious as I don't remember any brouhaha over the matter. That was the last time I ever saw the driver, though.

The second incident too is something you would expect statistically, some kind of road accident, especially for Rome. It was the Ford Transit and it was a young driver. He wasn't particularly fast, but there was no smoothness, just this constant start and stopping, as if he was trying to get somewhere in hurry. Slow traffic didn't help. From the very first moment it did cross my mind that this wasn't going to end well. We almost made it to school. At the last intersection, no traffic light, he rear ended the vehicle in front. Fortunately it was slow traffic so it was at slow speed and it was just a hard jolt. No seat belts, no air bags. Maybe someone behind slid from their seat. As I was watching the road ahead I could see what was going to happen so I was better prepared. We did have to spend some time as the drivers had work through the information to be exchanged. Fortunately our bus driver still had a bit of sense and recognized that he was at fault. He too was never to be seen again.

Many years later when I returned to Rome and was working for IBM, I needed to run an errand and the office did have a shuttle bus for people who needed to get to the train station for their commute which gave me a convenient way to get to where I wanted without having to deal with parking spot challenges. Use of the shuttle was simple by just showing the IBM badge. It was exactly what I did when I boarded it, but looking at the driver it turned out to be none other than Roberto. I took my spot upfront behind him and we chatted during the short drive. Couldn't have felt any better.